


For Real

by fridaysblues (taemin)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Goodbye Sex, Graduation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-17
Updated: 2013-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-20 01:03:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3630870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taemin/pseuds/fridaysblues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know me, I always end up leaving something behind.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Real

Everyone’s already several drinks deep when Lu Han finally makes it to the bar. Yixing’s the first one to spot him and crows a greeting that has Lu Han calculating the number of shots he could have possibly consumed in the time since he received the text message that said _heading to our spot one last time. victory lap? drinks are on you, grad._ Lu Han hadn’t thought much of it then, still busy dismantling the few things left in the office he’d shared with three other teaching assistants for the past two years and packing them into boxes to be loaded in his car in the next few days.

But he comes to the realization as he’s fitting stray ballpoint pens in the spaces between his notebooks: _It’s over. Finally._ And there won’t be a tomorrow night—or, there probably will be, but it won’t feel the same, somehow, even if the cast of characters stays exactly the same; the seal on his degree marking his life as different, as changed.

So he goes.

So here he is, watching Yixing stir the ice cubes in his drink. Baekhyun and Chanyeol were on their way to get a new round of drinks but they’ve clearly been distracted by something—probably that new guy working behind the bar, Zitao, who _might_ just be the best looking guy anyone’s ever seen. Seriously. They took a vote one night.

But someone’s watching him, too. He knows this gaze intimately, feels the goosebumps rise on his flesh, remembering what those eyes look like in the dark, the color of rich cherry wood, sleepy and fringed with thick, dark lashes. They’re separated by a table instead of inches of stuffy air but it’s exactly the same and Lu Han’s overcome with this weird sensation, like he’s the only person in the room.

“What are you thinking about, Jongin?” Chanyeol asks, sliding onto a stool and pushing a sloshing tray of shots into the center of the table. Baekhyun’s still lingering at the bar, propped on an elbow as he practically leans into the ice bucket to whisper something in Zitao’s ear. The owner of the gaze breaks his focus to glance up.

“Hm?”

Lu Han notices the glassy expression for the first time and wants to punch Yixing for encouraging him to drink. Yixing never takes responsibility for this kind of shit and Jongin’s a difficult, handsy drunk at his best, a fall-down sobbing mess at his worst.

“Earth to Jongin. What’re you thinking about? You’re staring off into space.” Chanyeol starts passing around the shots just as Baekhyun sidles back over to the table, a phone number scrawled on a napkin. He beams and shows off his prize.

“Told you I could do it.”

“Congratulations. Just in time for everyone to go home for the summer. He’ll forget all about you,” Chanyeol says drily. “Anyway. Jongin. You’re too quiet.”

Jongin looks back at Lu Han and a soft smile drapes around the corners of his mouth and Lu Han thinks, _oh shit, I know that look_ and braces himself for the second articulation of Jongin to make an appearance at any moment.

“It’s just kind of sad. Aren’t you guys sad?” He shakes his head. “End of an era. No more—”

“You’ve got another year, yet, undergrad,” Yixing quips, “Trust me, it’s too early to be this nostalgic. You’ll burn yourself out.”

Lu Han swallows, throat dry. He knows what Jongin’s going to say, if only because he’s been saying it for the past semester, ever since Lu Han completed his paperwork for graduation, throughout the entire process of writing his thesis, curling his toes against Lu Han’s heels and begging for five more minutes of attention before he’s left alone on the couch for a stack of textbooks and a blank word document that just won’t write itself.

“This is the last time we’ll all drink together like this. It’s just sad, that’s all,” Jongin shrugs and looks at the table. “You guys are my best friends. I’ve had a lot of fun.”

“Wow, way to bring it down, there,” Baekhyun laughs. “Why so morose? Here,” he pushes the shot glass in his hand. “Drink.”

Lu Han’s hand moves, almost on its own. “I don’t think—” But it’s too late and he watches the bottom of the glass tip skyward, the tequila burning a neat, fiery path down Jongin’s throat. He grimaces for a moment and then his face relaxes into a blissed out smile.

“You too,” Baekhyun says. “Last chance to pretend you’re not a grownup with obligations.”

Lu Han looks over at Jongin who’s smiling at him again, that idiotic puppy look on his face he gets right before he leans in to rest his forehead against Lu Han’s shoulder and Lu Han surrenders. He’ll worry about what’s next in the morning.

He makes quick work of it, wipes the back of his hand against his mouth and blinks against the stinging in his gut.

Baekhyun whoops and pushes another shot glass in his direction. “Come on, then, dude. Catch up!”

✫✫✫

They stay until they’re the only ones left and the staff turns the music down and flips the lights on. Yixing’s swaying a little but he manages to close the tab, waving off Lu Han’s credit card with a flippant hand.

“You’ll be buying my drinks when it’s my turn next year,” he assures him, all smiles. “Congratulations, Lu Han. I know you worked your ass off.”

“Thanks.” Lu Han nods. “It’s a relief. And scary? But. The relief’s stronger, I think.”

“Ready to get out of here?” Yixing zips up his sweatshirt.

Lu Han nods. “So ready. I’ve got my job lined up. I start next week—”

“I meant the bar. But hey, that too.” Yixing grins. “Just don’t forget about us, okay?”

An arm loops around Lu Han’s waist, pulling him out of his conversation and into a warm body he's collided with countless times before. A familiar forehead finds a resting place against his collarbone.

“Hey,” Lu Han says, voice low. “You okay?” He pushes aside the hem of Jongin’s shirt with splayed fingers to thumb the small of his back.

Jongin nods.

“Feeling sick?”

He shakes his head.

“Can you get home?”

He shakes his head again. Lu Han laughs a little.

“Did you plan on getting shitfaced just so I’d bring you home again?”

Jongin nuzzles his face against Lu Han’s neck but doesn’t explicitly answer the question.

“Everything’s in boxes, it’s a mess...” he trails off, his resolve weakened. “Fine,” he says after a moment. “You’re on the couch, though.”

He says this every time. He never follows through.

In their haste to get to the bed, they nearly trip over the boxes Lu Han had neatly stacked earlier, stolid and resolute, waiting for the movers in the morning. Jongin frowns as Lu Han has to abandon the buckle on his belt to go rummage through one for the half-used bottle of lubricant and a condom.

“You really are ready to get out of here,” he remarks as Lu Han kneels back on the mattress, teeth sinking into his lower lip. “You—were you planning on bringing me home tonight?”

Lu Han sighs and runs a distracted hand through his hair. “It’s not that, Jongin. I’ve just got to hand over the keys to my landlord before graduation, so I packed everything.”

He looks around the room. “Everything?”

“Everything except what I’m wearing right now.”

Jongin’s face starts to crumple but he stops himself by mashing his face into Lu Han’s neck, hands aggressively roaming under his shirt until he gets a good hold on it and tugs it over his head.

The pace slows when they’re both naked. It’s dark, blinds drawn tightly to ward off peeping neighbors, but Lu Han can still see Jongin’s eyes in the dark as Jongin settles back against the bed, letting his knees fall apart. He blinks slowly a few times but his eyes never look away from Lu Han’s face. He feels the gaze trained on him as he lowers his mouth against the fuzz of dark hair below Jongin’s navel and inhales, the sweaty, spicy smell of Jongin’s skin flooding his thoughts with the memory of all the times they’d done this before. The first time, in Lu Han’s car after a late night study session; every weekend spent in his bed, too lazy to get up until well past noon; late nights in the grass on the quad, giggling like idiots when a passerby would glance over and notice the suspicious location of Lu Han’s face in relation to Jongin’s lap. Lu Han braces his hands against the handle of Jongin’s hips and trails a pecked string of licking bite-kisses down the crease of his pelvis until Jongin’s whimpering and running his fingers through Lu Han’s hair.

“Fuck you, come on,” he exhales, eyes fluttering open to look past his erect cock at the face framed by his knees.

“What?” Lu Han asks innocently. This is part of their game, the familiar routine. Nothing given without being asked to first.

“I need you,” Jongin murmurs, stroking himself. “I need you now.”

Lu Han gives in. He knocks Jongin’s hand away and replaces it with his mouth. Jongin’s back arches up into him, hips rising off the mattress to fuck into Lu Han’s throat. Lu Han pulls away just slightly, enough that he’s not choking, and lets Jongin dictate the pace until his hand drops to the mattress, unable to even make a fist as the fingers search wildly against the comforter for something to hold onto and Lu Han knows he’s close.

He doesn’t want him to come yet, though. He sits back on his haunches and rolls on the condom, lubricated fingers already tracing the swell of Jongin’s ass. Jongin inhales, ready for the cool stretch of Lu Han’s index and middle fingers but it doesn’t come until he’s nudged over onto his side, facing away from the boxes by the side of the bed. Lu Han doesn't care much to look at them right now, either. Instead, he nestles himself behind Jongin, slips his fingers out and lets his dick come to rest against Jongin’s tailbone. Jongin wriggles slightly and leans back against it.

“You ready?” Lu Han asks. Jongin reaches behind to lace his fingers through Lu Han’s and that’s enough confirmation.

This isn’t usually how it goes. They’re usually in a hurry between classes, Jongin on all fours, balanced on his chin as Lu Han jackhammers against his body, frantic, racing to the finish line of _I’m going to come_ with his hands surveying the lean muscle of Jongin’s torso. Jongin looks surprised, but complies. They’d tried this position a few times after Jongin had twisted his lower back last semester and found any of the usual positions too uncomfortable to keep hard, let alone reach any sort of climax. It lends itself to a slower pace, allows Lu Han to pay more attention to the sensitive skin at the nape of Jongin’s neck, down the line of his shoulder, hips thrusting slow and steady, drawing long moans from Jongin’s chest with each push into his body.

Lu Han feels the orgasm crest through his body before he has a chance to say anything, muscles shuddering with the effort as he rides out the momentum: once, twice, three times before the pulsing in his dick finally grows still and stops. Jongin tugs his hands around to his neglected hard-on, bucking up and into Lu Han’s curved palm without Lu Han having to do much of anything at all before Jongin’s gripping the sheets and crying, Lu Han’s name sighed into the pillows like a quiet prayer before bed.

They lie there in the afterglow for what seems like hours before Jongin rolls over and Lu Han finds himself even more out of breath somehow, looking at the wide-eyed expression on Jongin’s face, so open and full of adoration.

“What?” Jongin asks, reaching out to touch his cheek.

“I’m not leaving _you_ , you know. I mean, that’s not why I’m leaving.”

“I know,” he says. “You’re graduating.” Lu Han is surprised that he doesn’t break eye contact, just says it calmly like he’s been okay with it all along.

“You’d be better off finding someone your own age.” He hates to say it but it’s true. Jongin’s still got years of schooling ahead of him, time that should be spent in as many different beds as possible, closing bars and going home with the bartender, making new friends. Living.

Jongin shrugs. “Maybe, but...”

“I’m. I can’t spend every weekend on campus once I’m gone.”

“I know.” _But I’ll wait anyway,_ he doesn’t say. He doesn’t really have to. “Do you need help with these boxes in the morning?” he asks and Lu Han knows the conversation’s not over, it just can’t be, but it’s done for tonight.

He nods into Jongin’s hair, wishing he were drowsy enough to sleep. The arm he has draped around Jongin’s waist tightens and pulls him closer, feels the heat radiating off his skin, cozy and familiar. Safe. Consistent. “You know me, I always end up leaving something behind.”

He feels Jongin grin against his throat. “Don’t worry about it. I won’t let you.”


End file.
